Drunk Before Noon
by J. Valentine0
Summary: Sometimes revisiting the past is the only way we can make for a better future. (A/U, Fathoming You universe)


**Chapter 1: Drunk Before Noon**

Rebecca Chambers.

_Becca. _

_Brat face._

Everyone's favorite designated driver. At least she was before they were all eaten alive. Five years since that night, and she found herself in a noisy bar somewhere in Brooklyn. She couldn't have told you more than the address or its name.

Devil's Cut.

The cabbie knew where to take her.

A tall glass of beer tried its best to cheer her up with its bubbles and bright honey color. It had little effect other than invoking a desire to take another long drink. Her pale eyes watched the street from her seat near the door. People coming and going didn't make for very good people watching. They were gone before she could absorb the memory of them.

_What's the point in being here?_

_You know why. He might show up._

Might, might, might… Rebecca hated working on hunches. She inwardly sighed at the thought as she adjusted the waist of her green dress. It was a silly thought. Five years of tracking and for what? The possibility of what, exactly? They'd spent _**one **_night in the company of each other. It had been one of the most horrifying nights of her life. So, what was she expecting?

_Oh, I dunno. Maybe he'll show up smelling like every man should with a dozen roses, no shirt, and we run off into the sunset! Have babies…and then he buys me a pony for each of the babies. We buy a house, fix it up…grow old?_

She amused herself like this, her own internal romance novels would have made her rich if she ever put them to ink. Another heavy sigh escaped her lips. The brunette woman's eyes widened as she saw him through the glass and come walking through the door.

Billy Coen.

Lt. Billy Coen.

_Bad Ass Billy._

His sleeve tattoo had beaten up three men by itself. Not really, but it was the joke that always followed him. That night, the tattoo slumbered under a deep brown and well fitted leather jacket. Dark hair slicked and a grin that could not be sunk on his face, Billy took a seat at the bar. "Hey Marty, can I get a drink?"

The middle aged man behind the bar shrugged. "I don't know, Billy. Can you?" He grinned suddenly, fetching a long neck from the cooler.

Rebecca's nails tapped at the sides of her drink, pale eyes fixed on the man turned away from her.

_What am I supposed to say?_

A deep breath taken and she decided she would make it up as she went. Sliding out of her chair, glass in tow, her white heels ticked against the wooden flooring as she approached the bar. Polishing off the drink, she took a seat two chairs down from the former soldier.

"Need another one, girly?" The bartender, Marty, beamed at the only woman in his bar.

Rebecca nodded, gaze following her nails tapping on the oak surface of the bar. She had to move fast, while the nerve was still there. She had to—

"Rebecca?"

_Aww man…I wasn't ready._

Cropped brunette hair only sheltered her briefly as Rebecca turned her head. "Hey stranger," She tried to sound as cool and calm as possible. Billy always sounded like he was calm and cool. For some reason, she didn't think she had sounded like either when she spoke.

If she didn't, he didn't seem to notice or care as he slid out of his backed chair to sit closer. "How are you? Damn, it's been…years!" An arm reached through the air to wrap around her lithe form.

_Wow, he looks exactly like I remember._

The brunette woman was out of her seat, slim arms snaked around to the nape of the man's neck as she returned the gesture. He smelled **good: **like a bad habit she never could kick.

He grinned against her hair, the lightest tones of lavender touching his senses during the embrace. "I wasn't expecting a big hug. The last time I saw you…" When she pulled back and he saw her face, Billy's brow knit. "You weren't doing so hot…"

_The last time I saw him, I was walking right into another trap along with my team. I had lied to Enrico hours before about Billy's fate. …God, Edward._

Rebecca Chambers had put up a strong front for as long as she could stand. Thinking of Enrico and Ed shred the inside of her like dried corn stalk. Her façade crumbled, revealing a pained expression and tears welling. "Y-Yeah… It's been a rough five years." Sitting back down in her chair, she wiped away one tear that managed to cascade down her face. "I…just haven't been coping well with it all."

Lounging against the back of his chair once seated, Billy's expression was hard and distant. "You're doing better than most would have. Believe me, girl. When I reached Stone Ville after everything went down, you wouldn't believe how many people were going crazy. They hadn't even witnessed a fraction of what you have." He wanted to say more, but couldn't claim that bringing up the past was the best thing to do in the moment. He just wanted her to feel strong.

She nodded slowly, opening the door to the past for both of them. "I tried to do counseling after that night." Rotating the glass on its coaster, Rebecca just shook her head. "I couldn't ever shake the memory of him."

"That guy from S.T.A.R.S. that nearly ate you?" Her nod alerted Billy that he'd been correct.

'_You must be careful…Rebecca…'_

'_EDWARD!'_

She dismissed the memory of five years before. A crazy train that had been lurching off the tracks to a Hell she never cared to revisit. She went there every night, lying down to die a little more next to Edward and her memory of him. "His name was Edward Dewey. He was my fiancé." Her pale eyes lifted to meet his gaze.

"Holy shit…" Billy couldn't capture those two words before they escaped his throat in a quietly disturbed tone. He was quiet for a long time. Coen hadn't known that, but it did explain a lot.

_Rebecca, trying to keep her face from being bitten off and pleading so helplessly at the zombified shell of a man towering over her. He had been dressed in a grimy white shirt with a deep blue vest and bathed in his own blood and body fluids. The sound of him moaning and drooling in hunger haunted to all four walls of the cabin. He would have ripped her apart if Billy hadn't put two bullets in his skull. _

A curious thought wandered his brain as to why she'd kept that from him. His watch glinted when it caught the light, and the dark haired man let out his air before speaking. "I don't think anyone could walk away from something like that without it leaving scars, Rebecca." His deep blue eyes offered what empathy they could. What empathy Billy Coen could muster for a woman he barely knew. Yet, even though that was a fact…he still felt that they had a stronger bond than most ever find in a lifetime.

_Silly sentiments, man. Don't start walking down that road. I doubt the kid feels the same way. She's got a bright future. The only reason you're walking free is because you were granted immunity to testify against those idiots from Umbrella. _

She had gone quiet, favoring bubbles and booze to conversation. Rebecca looked to him as a warm hand enclosed hers that rested between them. She remembered a handcuff around his beautiful wrist.

"He was a lucky man to have you." Billy absently commented, watching other patrons of the bar move around them with a wary eye.

"Thank you, Billy."

_Damn, she's roughed up. Poor girl isn't even trying to be bossy. It can't be a healthy sign._

He spoke further. "Life isn't fair at times. I speak from plenty of experience in that… It's not your fault. You did the best you could with what time you had, Rebecca."

"So did you, Billy." Her ruby red lips spread into a weak little smile. With some love and care, it could one day walk on its own.

He offered her a smile of his own. Such an alien expression on a normally stern face.

She went home after exchanging numbers with Billy. Alone in her room, Rebecca Chambers stared blankly at a photo which was tugged from a battered shoebox. The memory of Edward looked back at her, though she felt nothing but sedated as she gazed upon his smiling features. Returned to its pile, lid flipped back over, the young woman sat the box aside in favor of hugging onto a pillow. Her toes felt cold, she ignored it in the dim light of her room. A hand reached out to tug on the lamp's chain. She sat in the quiet of the dark.

The sound of the doorbell reached through the dark to her.

A heavy sigh and she was on her feet. Bare feet pattering against the wood floors, Rebecca opened the door without a second thought.

Billy's wolfish grin met her though was short lived as the shorter woman practically drug him inside before shutting the door.


End file.
